


Secrets on the Skins of Your Teeth

by novelhead



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Inspired by Skins (UK), Not Beta Read, POV Gilly, Post-Canon, and the great friendship with Hannah murray, blame Joe dempsie and his amazing acting, but I needed to, for writing this, i am trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 15:45:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18968329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novelhead/pseuds/novelhead
Summary: Sam told her that the headaches that caused it. But it was also more than headaches. It wasn’t her fault.





	Secrets on the Skins of Your Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, let me say that I never knew I needed a Gilly and Gendry friendship in my life until I saw "Skins." I know that it's different characters but Joe and Hannah have such great platonic chemistry! Also sorry if it's OOC, this is my first GoT fic and I need to get my angst out that the disappointing series finale left me with. I love Gendrya, but my mind was like "do we wanna do fluff? naaah."  
> Enjoy! Please leave comments :)  
> (Also I'll totally get back to my other fics, college was rough this semester yo)

Sam told her that the headaches that caused it. But it was also more than headaches. It wasn’t her fault.

\---------------

The first time Gilly came to visit the Stormlands was with Sam to see Lord Baratheon. Her husband wouldn’t tell her why they had such constant travels to Storm’s End, but it seemed urgent. At first, it was every month. Sam would meet with Gendry in private, apart from her and the lord’s wife. However, being married, she knew that couples sometimes kept secrets for the better. So not to hurt each other. These visits took place for the better part of three years.

Monthly visits turned into weekly soon enough. At this point, Gilly couldn’t help but notice Sam’s urgency to make it to Storm’s End on time.

“Gilly, have you seen my kit?” her husband asked, frantically moving papers and books around, searching the nooks and crannies of their house.

“No, why?” she replied absentmindedly, gazing at their newborn son as she cradled him, listening to him coo lightly.

“I’ve got to find it right away. We’re already late to leave for Storm’s End.”

“Why do we have to be on time? Is something wrong with Gendry?”

Sam paused, thinking about his next words. Gilly knew that this was one of his secrets that he kept from her and the lord’s wife. One day he’ll let her know, perhaps when this was all over. Soon enough, the wheels in his head stopped turning as he said, “I know where it is.”

As soon as the subject was dropped the couple left, the septa taking care of their three children. Traveling to Storm’s End this time of year wasn’t safe, so Sam convinced his wife that this was the best solution. Besides, Little Sam was old enough to look after and take care of his siblings. With some relief off of her shoulders, Gilly departed with Sam.  
On the road, the silence was deafening. Despite trying to keep her mind occupied by focusing on her gift for the lord and lady of Storm’s End, Gilly couldn’t help her gaze as it shifted to the rather large herbal and medical kit that sat by her husband’s legs. What could be in there? Why did Sam need so much?

“Gilly, you know I can see you.”

His voice broke her concentration, nearly making her drop her sewing needle.

“Huh? Oh, sorry. I just noticed how much stuff you brought along this time. Will it help Lord Baratheon?” Unconsciously chewing her bottom lip, Gilly fiddled with her needle as she shifted in her spot, seeing Sam release a deep sigh. A hand came up to his face, running down and resting on his chin as his eyes avoided hers.

“It should…I hope.” The heavy implications of that statement made the air around the couple grow thick, almost suffocating inside the small carriage. Gilly’s brow raised in concern, her questions threatening to spill off her tongue. Just as she opened her mouth to inquire further, Sam looked right at her, tired eyes slowing forcing the questions back. This was something that Gilly knew Sam doesn’t even want to think about now. His sweaty hands kneading together as he was bent over, a sickly look almost engulfing her husband’s being. Setting aside her project, Gilly reached out, grabbing Sam’s restless hands, a soft smile calming her husband. Perhaps some secrets are best not shared.

After almost a week, the couple arrived at Storm’s End. Gilly would never get used to the magnitude of the castle. Despite seeing King’s Landing many times, the process of rebuilding it after the Dragon Queen’s massacre was never-ending. However, the castle of Storm’s End held years of history, standing tall in the face of attacks by both humans and nature. The castle grew larger as the carriage slowly approached, the enormous wooden gates creaking open. Listening carefully, Gilly could hear guards shout, announcing Sam’s arrival. The carriage came to a stop, Sam exiting before offering his hand to help Gilly out. Stepping carefully, the salty air of the sea hit Gilly’s senses, the dark clouds above emitting an ominous mood.

A warmth of pride filled her chest. Throughout the years Sam has helped with longer words, filling out her vocabulary and strengthening her reading skills. It wasn’t until a few months after the death of the Dragon Queen that Sam told her about the importance of her discovery of Jon’s true parentage. Now she can teach their children how to read and write as she did with Sam being as busy as he is.

“Sam!” she heard a rough Flea Bottom accent cry, turning her wandering gaze to the center of the busy pavilion. Ser Davos approached the couple, his brow sweaty from the summer heat. With a slight hunch, the Onion Knight and infamous smuggler who now advises the Lord of Storm’s End walked over to Maester with noticeable haste in his step. Stopping abruptly, Davos’ eyes flicked from Sam to Gilly, his brow furrowing at the confusion of her presence. Why was he confused? Gilly usually came along.

“Ah, I was not expecting you to come along, Gilly,” Davos said acknowledging her with a slight bow of his head. “It is a pleasure to see you, however. Even on a day such as this.”  
Before Gilly could reply Sam and Davos were off, keeping in step with each other as their heads were bowed, murmurs filled the secretive space. Quickly following Gilly felt a sense of frustration replace the wonder and pride that she experienced earlier. Yes, couples had their secrets but this was getting out of hand.  
As the trio entered the grand castle of Storm’s End Davos split off from the group as Sam went the opposite direction. Stepping in line with her husband, Gilly let out a frustrated huff, making Sam turn his head, his pace not slowing but obvious regret of sorts in his eyes. With his free hand, he reached over grabbing hers, a reassuring squeeze shared between the couple.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re frustrated Gilly, but I promise if everything goes as planned I will tell you everything.”

“Okay, you’d better. Where are we heading?”

“To the Lord’s quarters. I figured you can keep him company while I work. I know how much you two love to talk.”

“Oh, great! And I can give him the present for his child. I hope it’s a boy.”

Gilly was ecstatic at the thought of the Lord of Storm’s End who was once a lowly bastard and social outcast, just as she was, having a family. First seeing the joy that he had married his ever-traveling wife and next when Sam helped confirm her pregnancy. Clutching the finished present to her chest, Gilly continued with Sam through the winding halls of the castle.

As they reached the doors to Gendry’s room Sam knocked. A soft shuffling was heard in the room before the wooden door creaked open. From the dark interior, said lord appeared, a warm, welcoming smile on his face. With his hair slightly longer than it had been in the past, Gendry seemed more youthful with the shaggy bangs framing his strong face. This further confused Gilly as to why Sam and Davos were worried if Gendry appeared fine.

“It’s good to see you,” Gendry greeted, moving aside to allow the couple into the room. With a bow of his head, Sam entered, followed by Gilly, who looked around the softly lit room. Despite it being mid-day, the curtains were drawn and only two candles illuminated the large quarter.

“You as well, my lord,” Sam replied, setting down his kit to shake Gendry’s extended reach. After years of marriage, Gilly would be the only one to notice the quick scan that Sam did of Gendry, eyes searching the young lord’s face. For what she didn’t know. Before her mind could continue to discover whatever Sam was looking for, Gendry dropped Sam’s hand, turning toward Gilly to open his arms and hug her, which she gladly returned. Despite now having a high title and standing, it was moments like these where Gendry’s true character was displayed. Never one for highborn who looked down on others, Gendry Baratheon proved himself to be a lord for the common folk.

“And Gilly, it’s good to see you again. How are the kids?” Gendry asked, releasing her from the embrace.

“They’re fine. Little Sam and little Jon are both taking to reading and writing pretty naturally. They also send well wishes, or I think they do.”

At that, Gendry let out a laugh, probably thinking of his own impending experiences with fatherhood. At some point Sam had left the room, perhaps preparing the medicines for Gendry, leaving the pair to talk, reminding her to yell if they needed anything.

“That’s good to hear. Why don’t you sit down and we can talk while Sam does whatever he needs to do? I’m sure he would have stayed in here if there were more lighting. But I keep getting these horrible headaches, especially around the light,” Gendry explained as he pulled out a chair for Gilly, moving to grab his own.

“That’s strange. It’s never happened to me. Is that why Sam keeps on coming here?” She asked, sitting down on the plush chair, fingers twiddling the fabric of her gift.

“Your guess is as good as mine. I mean, seven hells, I’m the patient and Sam nor Davos has told me much about why I need to keep drinking this tea or rub this mixture of herbs and spices on myself.” Gendry shrugged, shaking his head at the audacities that Sam could put lords through at times. Gilly giggled, thinking of when little Sam had contracted a fever and her husband tried almost every trick in the books before resorting to water and ice. At times her husband could be the smartest man ever and at others a complete mess. Perhaps that is one reason why she loves him.

“Does your wife know?”

“Haven’t asked her. I think she does, but she’s always been good at keeping secrets. It’s one of those things where I know that Sam is coming but not exactly for what and she will consult him almost day and night. Besides, she out right now, probably doing something she shouldn’t like practicing water dancing with the orphans again.”

“Again?”

“Yeah, I keep telling her to take it easy since she could give birth any day, but you know her. Not even her family could keep her down before she came to live here.” Gendry’s face had lit up, his eyes filling with love as he spoke. Gilly knew that feeling that radiates from the Baratheon, one she felt every time she looked at or even thought about her own spouse. Just being able to talk about the person you love is something that most people wouldn’t understand, especially when talking about those who are as unorthodox as their spouses are.

“Oh, Gilly, what’s that?” Gendry asked, his attention turning to the gift in Gilly’s hands.

“This? Oh, right! It’s for you. Well, your wife really. I know how much she enjoys riding or exploring, so I figured I’d make something to carry your child in. I know when little Sam was a baby traveling with him was difficult because of having to run and hold him. But with this, I’m sure it’ll make your lives easier.” Gilly handed over the wrap to Gendry, seeing confusion first before a glimmer of excitement as he inspected the well-sewn present.

“This is great! Thanks, Gilly,” Gendry exclaimed, standing up in excitement as he hugged her once again. Gilly felt joy swell up inside of her. She loved seeing others’ happiness, more so if she could be the one who was responsible. It was that feeling of elation and achievement that was sparked in her as Gendry stared at the gift, probably imaging his child being held securely in it.

“Wow, I know that she’ll love it. You know, my wife, um…” Gendry stopped, his face contorting. Gilly’s brow furrowed as well, confused at the pause. Why did he stop? The Lord looked at her then back at the gift, held firmly in his hands as he contemplated, his mouth wide open as to say something, but he didn’t know what.

“Wh-what’s her name? My wife, it’s…I should know it, right?” Gendry questioned, his tone rising in panic as he now stared at Gilly, those stormy blue eyes filled with something that she never saw in the normal confidence he held; fear. Fear of the unknown, of the secrets that were kept from him, his wife and even Gilly.

“Let me get Sam,” Gilly said, standing up as Gendry wobbled his way to his featherbed, slowly sitting down on it as the marred uncertainly pained his expression.

“Sam!” Gilly called, unable to restrain her own panic. She didn’t know why, but her chest felt tight, almost like she was unable to breathe properly. Something bad was happening. When she saw some guards run toward the room Sam was most likely in, Gilly turned around to see the most horrid sight.

The man who she had befriended these past few years, a strong, confident, loving man who had all of the happiness in the world with his wife was lying down and shaking uncontrollably on his bed. Feeling faint, Gilly rushed left the door to the chambers open, quickly shouting out. She didn’t know what exactly, but it was some kind of plea for help.

Abandoning her post at the door, Gilly raced toward the bed, climbing on top to hold Gendry’s head. She ignored the pile of vomit and blood that lay next to him as she gently held his head, staring down at panicked eyes, ones that were begging for the lord to hold onto life. Gilly could feel her own face reflecting Gendry’s, tears welling up but unable to spill as incoherent mumbling came from the Bull. The trails of blood from his ears and nose continued to trickle out, spit mixed with chunks of his breakfast and bile foaming at his quivering lips. All Gilly could see was his face, eyelids flicker softly before a realization came to his expression.

“It’s Arya…her name, my wife, Arya Baratheon. I remember.”

With the final desperate plea to cling to life died in the Lord's eyes, Gilly’s world silenced. Seconds ago, yelling filled both the hallways and the chamber of Storm’s End, but now she only saw Gendry’s blank expression stare back at her, his hands wrapped protectively around the gift as if he were to hold his own child. His dead body was rigged, then limp. Sliding away from Gendry, Gilly climbed off the bed or was moved off by Davos and Sam as they moved around the still lord, other maesters joining. Gilly only felt her feet move backward, unable to take her eyes off the scene in front of her. When she got to the door, Gilly saw a heavily pregnant Arya in her peripheral vision.

Grey eyes stared at the same scene, tears spilling out of them as Arya moved forward, forcing her way to her husband’s body.

“What’s happening? Sam? Davos? Tell me!” the wolf demanded, hands reaching for the man she loved, the one she came right to after navigating the world five years ago. Arya’s gaze whipped from the men to Gilly, who was standing almost as rigged as Gendry was at the door, seeing absolute heartbreak in the lady’s eyes.

Gilly tried to, wanted to, tell the fierce wolf ‘I’m sorry,’ but nothing came. Instead, she tore her gaze away and left the room, tears still able to spill, but when Gilly finally let out a noise, only a deep cry of despair rang out, no tears to spill. She leaned against the wall, the noise finally coming back, an overwhelming sensation hitting her. The mixture of emotions, high and intense, weighed down on her, crushing her with the guilt of a problem she couldn’t solve.

It was the secret that she didn’t know.

Later that night, after confirming nothing to be done and leaving the weeping Arya with her husband for a while, Sam came to find Gilly laying emotionless in their bed. He told her it wasn’t her fault, it was the headaches. Something about bleeding in his brain, swelling on a singular spot that ruptured, caused it. Perhaps he should have told her. Then Gilly could have tried to help instead of remaining useless. No matter how many times Sam would tell her, she still felt that it was partially her fault that Arya Baratheon was a young widow with a child, the Baratheon line all but being cut short. Maybe in another life, she could have stopped it, or couldn’t have, but for now, Gilly curled into Sam as she lied down next to her, tears finally spilling, her cries mixing with many that night.


End file.
